


In love, in love, it's Summer

by MisakillDatMonkey



Series: Sarumi Summertime [1]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Gloomy ice-cream vendor and student!Saruhiko, M/M, Munakata has weird antics again and it's always so so convenient for the plot, Sarumi Fest 2016, Summer! AU, Surfer!Yata
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-22 02:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7415791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisakillDatMonkey/pseuds/MisakillDatMonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This summer seems like hell to Saruhiko: it's awfully hot, there're people he hates crawling all around the place, and that gross sand seems like his own personnal trial to endure.<br/>And no fallen angel is going to change that... but maybe a stupid and annoying surfer will?</p><p>Posted for Sarumi Fest 2016</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hot and salty, sounds like Hell

**Author's Note:**

> It’s July, right? Happy Sarumi Fest to everyone! I wanted to contribute to it a little and I thought... Why not turn it into a Summer!AU! After it is Summer and...  
> Surfer!Yata and Gloomy ice-cream vendor!Saruhiko would be a funny AU... We’ve been talking about it for long and I decided I could write it?
> 
> The main story will have 2 parts, and there will be an additionnal one *-* I’ve been working on it for... SO LONG. I hope it pleases you all <3  
> Thank you Chrome, also, for beta-reading it! *-*

Saruhiko had always thought there was a limit to how much you could hate your life. Now he knew he had been wrong. Very wrong.

It had all started just after he had been admitted in that weird program for gifted students in computer science. He had no idea how he had ended up there, really. He was thinking about dropping studies after high school was over and had put the least effort possible into his finals. He had graduated top of the class – and school – nonetheless, and had actually known about that fact when a weird guy had shown up at his place.

Saruhiko had lived in a scruffy place until then. The guy who brought him up being – fortunately – dead, and that guy’s wife not being a part of his life anymore, and frankly, it was fine. Saruhiko just needed his computer, a futon, some energy drinks and protein bar to live on.

So, the plan should have been that: live there, earning enough to exist by hacking and programming and… well, yeah, there wasn’t a precise plan but he didn’t think about it at the time. So, when Munakata had showed up at Saruhiko’s place, holding a sheet of paper with his exams results, and another stipulating he had been admitted to a school he hadn’t passed the exam entrance for… It was a surprise. Surprise here being an understatement.

But it’s not like there was a reason to refuse. That tall, good looking four-eyed guy, he was kind of convincing and he seemed smart. Smarter than Saruhiko probably, and that was rare enough to catch his interest. Anyway, in the end, he had followed him. He’d be provided with a room in the dorms of the campus and basically, everything Saruhiko would need would be given to him. He just had two things to do in order to keep that position.

During the year, he had to monitor other students in computer sciences. And during breaks… Like summer break, he was assigned to Munakata’s current project.

The fact that this man – a total weirdo that the students of this program called the Captain – had the weirdest antics was the only big flaw of this plan.

“No, we don’t sell flip-flops,” Saruhiko snorted with plain obvious disdain. “This is an ice-creams stand. I get that a four year old child can’t figure that out, but you—“

“Eeeeh Fushimi-san! Let me handle that!” a voice called behind him as Hidaka rushed next to him to deal with the customer who was now looking at Saruhiko as if he was a monster.

The dark haired man clicked his tongue. He looked at the kid for a second. The kid looked back with a stare void of emotions and a shiver ran down the young man’s spine. Ugh, he hated this job.

Because that was his job, for the summer at least, selling stupid ice-creams and sodas to the vacationers at this stand… An annoying, painful and irritating job, actually. And it didn’t help that he had to team up with other members of his program during the week. Hidaka thought being an ice-cream vendor was fantastic. Saruhiko wanted to die badly.

Sometimes he thought about stepping out of the shadow provided by the big umbrella above the stand, without sunscreen… but in the end, suicide had very little appeal to him and thus, he suffered in silence. Or almost silence since he clicked his tongue so often. 

Without much of a  choice, he’d have to accept it. It had been only three days and he was supposed to spend two whole months doing that, six days a week. Things had already gotten worse though. It couldn’t be more terrible now. The previous day, Munakata had shown up and ask of them to push the stand further into the beach, and they were now roasting in the middle of it. Not far enough from the sea to be surrounded by people, and not close enough to get some fresh air…

They roasted nicely despite the umbrella, feet in the sand – almost, since Saruhiko had been adamant and would wear sneakers even in the sand, trying not to think of the awful powder worming its way into his shoes and socks.

 “This is hell,” Saruhiko muttered under his breath, glaring at his surroundings.

And it seemed like nothing would save him.

 

* * *

 

 

“Wow! That one was awesome!”

Saruhiko cringed. Hidaka was at it again – whatever it was. The gloomy young man had been sitting behind the stand on the ugly folding plastic chair and playing on his PDA for an hour now, and Hidaka had spent the exact same amount of time gaping at something that was apparently awesome, also qualified as pretty cool and even a fuck that’s sick once. And the dark-haired man definitely didn’t want to know what the subject of such admiration was; but this time, his colleague actually solicited him.

“Damn Fushimi-san! He’s coming towards us!”

“Who is coming towards us?” Saruhiko asked dryly, pushing himself up from the chair. He was so irritated by now, it was ridiculous.

Hidaka gave him a funny, confused look. “Well… The surfer of course. Weren’t you listening?”

“You mean just now or since the shift started?” the dark-haired man drawled. Not that the other was vexed by that comment.

There was, indeed, someone walking straight toward their stand and already upon them, and Hidaka turned away from Saruhiko to greet that person.

Saruhiko looked at that person. Intensively. It was a young man, really young… Actually, if Saruhiko had seen his face only and judging his height, he’d have said that guy was a teenager. Except there was no way he was a teen.

The guy wasn’t wearing anything but a pair of swim trunks, deep red and… well, no, definitely, that wasn’t the body of a teenager.

Saruhiko’s piercing eyes skidded over the tanned and muscled body and he felt the urge to reach for his personal bottle of water behind the stand because he felt like his throat was suddenly too dry. He didn’t though, and observed more thoroughly the young man instead.

The guy had red hair, damp and wild right now. He wore a bright smile that was almost blinding, standing out so white and wide on that caramel-colored skin. Skin that was momentarily dripping of a million of droplets of water – each gleaming like pearls as they rolled down on the toned abs and arms, catching the sun rays. 

“Fushimi-san?” Hidaka’s voice pierced his eardrum suddenly and Saruhiko jerked his head away from him. Why was that idiot standing so close anyway?

“What is it?” he asked, using that opportunity to stop staring at the redhead who had just halted at the opposite side of the stand.

“So… you’re going to serve our new customer?” Hidaka replied, hiding – for whatever reason – an obvious embarrassment.

“What’s with the stupid question?” Saruhiko said, still purposefully ignoring the newcomer.

“Well… You’ve been staring for a moment now,” his colleague said low enough for Saruhiko to be the only one to hear it. But that delicate attention didn’t please him more than that. In fact, he just stared back blankly, fighting the creepy feeling running down his spine with determination.

“I wasn’t—”

“Yo! You’re gonna take my order or what?”

The redhead cut him off cheerfully, loudly and rudely! Nice! Another stupid human being whose life was so joyful and for whom birds sing-sung under the bright sun first thing in the morning.

Saruhiko shifted slightly to face him, taking another look at him. That obnoxious idiot was as stunning closely as he was from afar. But he was definitely shorter than Saruhiko and the gloomy vendor looked down to him from the other side of the little stand. Serves him right! For being… all… whatever.

“Well obviously I’m not here to guess what you’ll have,” Saruhiko snapped.

In front of him, the guy blinked a couple of times, taken aback by the response. Next to him, Saruhiko felt Hidaka ready to step in. _No way_. “Please, ask away,” he added, already tired.

The other frowned in response, his eyes narrowing into slits too. Just before he did so, Saruhiko caught a glimpse in them. Two amber gemstones shining vividly. “Are you a real vendor?”

The question took aback Saruhiko this time, as a fair return. And it irritated him even more. “No, I’m a fake one. Don’t tell anyone! If the ice-cream vendor police learn that, I’m done for.” 

Those amber eyes widened comically at that and then, Saruhiko waited for an outburst or an angry comeback. Anything… but a stupid laugh. Still, it’s what he got. The redhead burst into laughter next to him, accompanied by a very-nervous chuckle – courtesy of Hidaka.

“What even—“

“Yeah right!” the other breathed out with some difficulty, holding his flat and toned stomach with his hands as he tried to regain some composure. Saruhiko stared a bit more, in shock.

“You sure don’t need a license for being a jerk though,” the redhead added when he was able to form coherent sentences again. Should have spare us the trouble.

This time, Hidaka’s chuckle didn’t sound nervous at all and Saruhiko glared at him mercilessly, interrupting the annoying noise instantly.

“Anyway! I’ll have a can of coke and a mint flavored popsicle stick.”

The dark-haired man could hardly believe it. The redhead was so casual, smiling again with even more ease than he had to breathe obviously, running a hand in his damp hair.

“Sure thing!” Hidaka answered with a big grin, opening the trunk with the cans and bottles and retrieving what he needed from it. “I saw you earlier! That was pretty cool!”

_What is happening!_

Looking at the two in utter disbelief, Saruhiko searched for a Popsicle stick absentmindedly. The redhead was now rubbing at the back of his head sheepishly.

“Nah. It’s nothing. Was just warming up a bit…”

“Wow! Awesome! You’re going back?” Hidaka asked in awe. _Seriously stop, it’s embarrassing!_

“Yeah. I mean I will once I get to eat my treat,” the redhead said, his eyes shifting from his colleague, to Saruhiko, the sheepish grin turning into a lopsided smirk.

The ice-creams vendor handed him the Popsicle reluctantly. The guy snatched it and dropped some money on the surface of the glassy counter.

“You come here often?”

Saruhiko clicked his tongue. It seemed like Hidaka wasn’t ready to drop it anytime soon unfortunately.

“Almost every day. I’ve never seen this stand before, though?” the surfer answered cheerfully.

“Yes! We opened it only three days ago!” Saruhiko’s colleague went on, shamelessly. Well if that idiot needs a distraction… “Fushimi-san is in charge of this stand. And I’m Hidaka.”

Saruhiko’s eyebrows raised so much it almost hurt. “Don’t go throwing my name at strangers’ faces like that!” he scolded him dryly.

Hidaka let out an apologetic laugh. “Sorry Fushimi-san, it’s just nicer…”

“Who care about nice,” the dark-haired man drawled, fed up. “I’m not here for that.”

“Figures,” the other’s voice reached him even though no one asked for his opinion. “I’m Yata by the way,” he added looking straight at Saruhiko, like I care. “Well, I’m heading back! See you around!”

“Thanks but no thanks,” Saruhiko muttered.

“See you, Yata-san!”

The redhead was already walking away under the scorching sun, jogging lightly on the sand toward a bunch of guys in swim trunks and loose shirts. Saruhiko’s eyes narrowed. There was a surfboard planted in the sand and Yata leant against it, laughing stupidly and loudly at someone’s joke as he did.

Then the surfer turned his head a moment and their eyes locked. Saruhiko froze, surprised. And the redhead smirked before turning away again, speaking to someone else with animation. The gloomy vendor had no idea why his stomach was fluttering like that and; clicking his tongue once more, he dropped on the folding chair with the intent of spending the last hours there.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, when Saruhiko came to open the stand at 10AM, the beach was already crowded enough – to his dismay. There were a lot of families with loud kids running everywhere and some groups of young people… Not much were in the water yet, though.

It was something Saruhiko would never understand. What was appealing in roasting on the beach all day long, under the scorching sun, lying on the sand – ew, thanks but no thanks? At least, people swimming did something constructive? But that was also out of question for the young man for seaweeds and salty reasons.

Saruhiko was salty enough already anyway. It’s not like he needed to bath in more of that. He wasn’t even a good swimmer thanks for that shitty guy and his awful antics… Having been thrown into a swimming pool at age 4, without knowing how to swim had been traumatizing enough.

 _It’s ridiculous no matter how you look at it._ In the end, Saruhiko really hated that place and would never understand the hype going on about going to the beach.

The gloomy vendor spent the first two hours in relative quietness, not bothered much by the few customers who came by to buy drinks and ice-creams, and eventually took out a Caloriemate bar from his bag when lunch time arrived.

“Is this your meal?” a voice asked just when Saruhiko was dropping on the chair. A familiar – already – voice.

“Tsk. I don’t recall my mom being so short and obnoxious,” the dark-haired man answered, slowly getting up to find Yata on the other side of the counter.

The young man was grinning. And wore a shirt that hung open on his bare chest and swim trunks. Saruhiko noticed that even when his skin was dry, it still seemed to be as soft as silk. And immediately mentally slapped himself for that.

“Shut it! I’m not short! And it’s not my problem if you eat that unhealthy crap,” Yata said with animation.

“Then why bringing it on in the first place?” the other drawled, rolling his eyes.

“Was just pointing things out…”

“You really made this your favorite past time, didn’t you?” Saruhiko mocked with a smirk.

The redhead frowned. “Made _what_ my favorite past time?”

“Being useless?”

“Fuck you!”

The insult came back loud and fierce. Saruhiko chuckled at the vision of this guy all worked up and insulted.

“No thanks, but I appreciate you offering,” he drawled once more, leaning against the counter lazily. At least that made a nice distraction – saving his PDA battery for the time being. In front of him, the surfer was stuttering, his face reddening slowly.

“That’s certainly not—that’s… ah! You’re really annoying!”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Jerk!” Yata muttered. “Give me a can of—“

“Misaki!” a gentle feminine voice interrupted him. Immediately, the surfer looked down at something Saruhiko couldn’t see. It was the voice of a child, but not the same kind as the ones running around like animals - noisy and stupid. It was a little girl probably. “Anna! You’re here already? Is Kusanagi-san…”

“Misaki?” the name rolled out of Saruhiko’s mouth before he could stop it.

It brought back the redhead’s attention to him instantly. And it seemed like it was the worst thing to say, regarding Yata’s panicked look.

“Can I have a vanilla cone, please, Misaki?” the gentle voice asked again.

Saruhiko still didn’t bend to look at the girl, too occupied staring hard at the redhead. “Your name is Misaki?”

“Sh—shaddap! Just give me Anna’s ice-cream,” the other mumbled, his face turning a new shade of red.

Saruhiko’s smirk twisted even more, turning into some kind of devilish pout. Misaki didn’t seem to like it one bit.

“You sure get easily flushed, Misaki,” the vendor said, before actually starting to prepare the cone. “How manly! But I shouldn’t be surprised, with a girl’s name you can only be…”

“Yata-chan!” Again – was it going to be some kind of new irritating habit – someone interrupted them.

This time it was a man and considering how Misaki looked ready to jump on the other side of the stand to strangle Saruhiko, maybe it was pretty fortunate. He must have been a few years older than them, a blond and tall guy with sunglasses that radiated a cool and calm aura.

Yata-chan, Misaki, or whatever he was called, didn’t answer him though. He was looking at Saruhiko with a murderous expression totally ruined by the crimson coloring of his cheeks and forehead.

“You feeling ok, Yata?” the man came to a halt before the stand and the little girl stepped backward, appearing in Saruhiko’s field of vision, to take his hand. “Hi,” he added for the vendor.

“I—I—yeah! Yeah I’m fine,” the redhead stuttered awkwardly, eventually looking away. “Can I leave this to you? I’m going back to get ready!”

With that, he hurried to leave in obvious distraught. His friends stared back with puzzled glances and Saruhiko frowned, suddenly feeling like keeping that attention for himself a bit more. What was this idiot thinking, suddenly dumping him?

He bent quickly, grabbing a can of coke. “Misaki!” Saruhiko called without a remorse.

The redhead stopped in his track, his frame stiffening in one go. “What?” he cringed, turning slowly toward the stand.

Saruhiko just threw the can at him with so much precision the surfer only had to open his hand to catch it. “You forgot this,” he drawled.

 _He_ was the one to end the conversation, not the other way around. Misaki stood there awkwardly, startled, and gaping but Saruhiko had turned away already. _Who does he think he is, seriously?_

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, Misaki didn’t show up. The previous afternoon, he had surfed for hours and Saruhiko had meticulously avoided looking at the ocean and the waves and the people in the water. He had still caught him once or twice and really that wasn’t that impressive! Hidaka was pumped up for nothing!

Saruhiko might have been shamelessly lying to himself, but what if he was? That wasn’t like he cared about some hot-headed surfer with a girly name. He was stunning and so what? There were plenty of attractive people and it wasn’t like he was interested in that kind of things. Beautiful things were fragile. And if Misaki seemed the tough kind, braving the waves enthusiastically and all, he still qualified as beautiful.

Saruhiko knew that because he had thought about it all. day. long. and it actually made him totally mad. He had realized it a couple of times when inopportune customers had shown up and brought him back on earth. So annoying! And yet he couldn’t help it, thinking about the surfer all day.

At the end of the day, he had made up that shitty excuse that it was the only distraction he got there all day long and that was why Saruhiko focused on it so much… But really it was terribly irritating.

 

So after that day of nothingness, Saruhiko had been even more displeased when the surfer had deigned to show up at the beach; because then he couldn’t help the little twitch of excitement coiling at the pit of his stomach and it was like some kind of illness he really didn’t want to catch.

This was going to be a pain, Saruhiko could tell. And when Munakata shown up and announced they were to have a bonding experience on the next day, Saruhiko wanted to die more than ever. Of course the team wouldn't bond over databases and software, as expected from a group of computer sciences students... but around --

"Sandcastles and sunscreen? What is that weirdo up to?" Saruhiko muttered under his breath, double checking the text he had received on his PDA.

Next to him, Hidaka didn't share his un-enthusiasm, actually very pleased with the idea of sharing good-natured feelings around such disgusting things as sand and sunburns. The gloomy ice-creams vendor's life just turned into a nightmare and the surfer wasn’t even to be seen.

 

Still, he was there the next afternoon. Not for his stand but to join the little cheerful group. He was the last to arrive, of course, and took his sweet time to walk toward them. They were all there already, dressed like idiots with swim trunks, ugly Hawaiian shirts and stupid hats... Saruhiko had no sense of fashion and dressed casually but he was almost sure the fashion police could arrest that little joyful bunch for their lack of aesthetic. Unfortunately, they weren't going to do that today and Saruhiko was going to have to spend the whole afternoon with them.

"Oya Fushimi-kun is here at last! Shall we proceed then?” Munakata declared, radiating with all his leadership-like superiority.

How he could galvanize people like that was a mystery to Saruhiko – but it totally worked. The next minute, everyone moved along and followed Munakata to the shore. Saruhiko felt his stomach churn with apprehension. They were going near the sea? _What for!_

He couldn’t move and stared at the others… At this precise moment, all he wondered was how his simple, boring life, had turned into such an awful nightmare.


	2. You're my sun(burn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So you’re not just a jerk to people? You’re also a dick to seashells?”
> 
> A mocking voice rang above him suddenly and had Saruhiko looking up with a defensive stare. He knew that voice. And he was really pissed with it and its owner. Misaki was standing there, bathing in the sun and towering him – for once – a surfboard tugged under an arm. And of course he was grinning.
> 
> So now he was showing up of all time?
> 
> “Just wait to see me around idiots like you, you’ll regret not being a seashell,” Saruhiko snapped back, turning again to poke rather aggressively at another shell.
> 
> Instead of running away, Misaki planted his board in the sand next to the ice-cream vendor.

Saruhiko had been sitting there for an hour, poking at some seashell with a straw that had been ended to him a bit earlier with a can of coke. There was no more coke left, though. No more coke and no more hope. The day was definitely a disaster.

His classmates were all enjoying themselves around him along the shore, pairing up around sand castles… and he was the only one sitting there and glaring at his surroundings with open hostility. _This is so useless._

Despite Munakata’s will, there was no way he was going to build a castle himself. The water kept closing in on him and the dark-haired man had already stepped back twice to avoid it. If he started building a castle, surely it’d be destroyed in no time and then Saruhiko would have wasted a time he was already wasting by sitting there doing nothing. “Tsk, this is so stupid!”

“So you’re not just a jerk to people? You’re also a dick to seashells?”

A mocking voice rang above him suddenly and had Saruhiko looking up with a defensive stare. He knew that voice. And he was really pissed with it and its owner. Misaki was standing there, bathing in the sun and towering him – for once – a surfboard tugged under an arm. And of course he was grinning.

So now he was showing up of all time?

“Just wait to see me around idiots like you, you’ll regret not being a seashell,” Saruhiko snapped back, turning again to poke rather aggressively at another shell.

Instead of running away, Misaki planted his board in the sand next to the ice-cream vendor.

“You’re in a very bad mood, today,” the redhead commented. And - _what the fuck is he doing -_ dropped in the sand next to Saruhiko.

It was hard not to notice he was only wearing a pair of swim trunks today. But his hair and skin were dry. Obviously he had been on his way to the sea, and had bothered to stop by because Saruhiko just was the unluckiest person on earth, wasn’t he?

“You’re surprisingly correct, Misaki~”

“Piss off,” the redhead barked in his turn, smirking fiercely now. He wasn’t leaving, though and Saruhiko looked up again.

For a moment they stared at each other in silence. The surfer adorned a lopsided smile Saruhiko totally found attractive and hated even more.

“So what are you up to?” Misaki asked eventually.

“Nothing. I’m just waiting for this day to be over,” Saruhiko growled darkly, dropping his straw in the sand and tugging his legs against his chest.

“Well you’ve got long hours ahead, you know that?” Misaki asked again.

The gloomy ice-cream vendor didn’t answer that. There was no use to do so anyway. He knew that already very well indeed.

“Are you with all these guys?” the redhead went on – _why won’t you leave!_

Saruhiko found himself looking at the _guys_ the other was pointing and wasn’t surprised to see Hidaka, Enomoto and Domyoji fooling around like mad puppies near an ugly giant sand castle. His glare must have been enough of an answer because Misaki opened his mouth again. “Not building a castle yourself? They seem to enjoy themselves while _you_ look like the kid that had been punished and sent away in a corner.”

“I don’t have time for that kind of stupid activities,” Saruhiko drawled darkly.

“Oh right! ‘Cause you have so much time to… what are you doing by the way? Trying to murder that scallop? It’s already dead for the record… Laying there in the s—“

“You _never_ shut up, do you?” This time the dark-haired man exclaimed in disbelief before slapping himself mentally and hunching on himself.

Misaki grinned in response. “And you never put sunscreen on, do you?” he then said, all proudly.

The ice-cream vendor frowned, even more startled than before. “What’s the—“

“Your nose. It’s already red as fuck. I can tell you’re going to have a nasty sunburn,” the surfer answered while shrugging. “Because you wear long sleeves, which is sick by the way… and jeans, definitely sick, doesn’t mean you won’t catch a sunburn. You have no hat.”

_Is he for real?_

Saruhiko’s eyes widened terribly and there was no helping it. This guy was the weirdest person ever and there was no way to get rid of him! He was persistent, Saruhiko had to give him that. Somehow… it wasn’t unpleasant. Or it was, but he was glad to be displeased?... _What the hell is happening?_

“Let me help you, ok?” the surfer’s voice brought him back to earth after a couple of seconds when the dark-haired man found himself at a loss for words.

“Help me?”

He didn’t understand. Misaki was fumbling in a backpack Saruhiko hadn’t noticed before and when he turned back to him, the redhead was holding a white and orange bottle. _Sunscreen, uh_.

Then the shorter one shifted in the sand and moved to settle in front of Saruhiko, sitting on his ankles and uncapping the bottle.

Another second later a spurt of whitish liquid dirtied one of Misaki’s hand and the dark-haired man blinked. “No,” he heard himself say, backing away and dragging his ass as later as he could in the gross sand.

“Yes!” Misaki answered with determination and a stupid grin, stepping forward on his knees.

“Back off! I don’t know you, just do—“

Saruhiko’s protests were cut short the moment the redhead bent over him and half-slapped his hand on his face. The hand covered in sunscreen. Seemed like Misaki had miscalculated his action and had been rougher than he intended, because his mocking grin had turned into a sheepish little smile, but the redhead didn’t stop.

Saruhiko was paralyzed and too focused on his crazy heartbeat suddenly hammering against his ribcage to move anymore.

He was leaning backward, hands buried in the sand to support himself, legs parted and knees bent, Misaki kneeling in between them, a hand in the sand next to Saruhiko’s hip, the other sticking to his cheek – and that gross feeling and slickness on his face…

The dark-haired man felt his face bursting in flames and was sure it had nothing to do with any sunburn whatsoever.

That toned and tanned chest was almost pressed against his, heaving slightly… And that was even more disturbing and… “Sorry! I didn’t mean to—well you should’ve stayed in place, ok?” the redhead muttered, still sheepish.

 _Why isn’t he moving away_? Saruhiko wished he had more space and a glass of water too, for his throat was as dry and raspy as sandpaper.

He wasn’t provided with that, though, because the surfer didn’t budge. Only the hand on Saruhiko’s face moved a bit, and it wasn’t to withdraw. Instead it slid over his skin slowly but surely. And surprisingly gently. The dark-haired man caught his breath.

Misaki’s thumb stroked his cheekbone, spreading the sunscreen there, then moving on his temple and back toward his nose, covering the area with the liquid, ever so gently. It had nothing to do with that previous rough way to manhandle Saruhiko.

His heart was pounding in his chest, and he couldn’t take away his eyes from the other’s face. Misaki looked so concentrated, it was mesmerizing. The vendor had no idea what was happening. They didn’t knew each other, and here they were, acting all familiar and shit? The gesture was almost intimate… Saruhiko’s brain had a hard time coping with it and it made him feel like a cornered animal.

Fortunately that moment came to an end and Misaki eventually withdrew, sitting on his ankles again and rubbing his hands together to get rid of the excess of sunscreen coating them. He looked rather satisfied, scrutinizing Saruhiko’s face.

Then a ball bounced in the sand next to them and Saruhiko realized suddenly they weren’t alone and the world was still in motion around them. They were on a crowded beach, during yet another day of summer, and it was noisy around them… It was strange to acknowledge all that and yet to only see the redhead.

“That should do it for now. Anything else I can help with?” Misaki asked, throwing the bottle back in his backpack.

“I’m supposed to build a sandcastle,” the dark-haired man heard himself say under his breath, without realizing it.

The surfer’s bright smile about blinded him in response.

 

* * *

 

 

From this day on, Saruhiko met Misaki every following one. There wasn’t a day Misaki didn’t show up at the stand, and on his first day off, Saruhiko found himself doing something he had thought he’d never do… wandering around the beach without any purpose.

That precise day, when Misaki spotted him and asked why he wasn’t at the sand, the dark-haired man explained why he was here six days a week but had no explanation for why he was there on that seventh one…

The surfer hadn’t said a thing back then, just smiled that smile the dark-haired man craved to see all the time now. Then he had teased him a bit about being dressed too much for a place like that and proposed to leave the beach and spend the day in the game center. Saruhiko had been so pleased… it was as crazy as stupid. But he had gone with it anyway.

And now, it was another of Saruhiko’s days off and they had just stepped in the game center.

It had been about three weeks now. It was insane how the dark-haired man had gotten used to Misaki’s obnoxious and lively presence quickly, and how it felt empty when the redhead wasn’t around. And it wasn’t even due to the surfer’s good looks. After learning to know the young man, Saruhiko had found himself drawn more and more to him without any rational reason. He just wanted to spend his time with him and when they weren’t around each other, they sent texts or emails. It was as simple as that.

Although, for a weird reason, today felt _off_.

Saruhiko looked at his side and tried to catch Misaki’s amber eyes but the other averted his gaze quickly. He was restless, antsy… Saruhiko had no idea why and found it annoying. It was like Misaki avoided him or something, and in the meantime tried to stick as closely as he could around the dark-haired man, rushing clumsily around him to busy himself.

“Will you stop fidgeting for a second?” the young man asked, fed up, when the surfer dropped a bunch of coins on the floor as they left a game station to find another one.

“So—sorry, I mean, I’m—I’m not! Say Saru... Let’s try this one!” Misaki stuttered in an obvious hurry, pointing at a game that made Saruhiko frown.

It was a simple but really interesting game all about logic and enigmas. And Misaki hated it. He always complained that it was boring and he couldn’t figure out half of the answers to pass the different levels.

“We don’t have to play this one in particular,” the taller one said, clicking his tongue.

He was really annoyed, not understanding why the redhead acted so weirdly.

“You like it, don’t ya?”

“I guess it’s entertaining, yes, but you hate it,” the dark-haired man commented, his frown deepening.

Misaki had collected back the coins and was now juggling with them absent-mindedly, looking at Saruhiko with an odd expression. He looked half-scared, half-expecting something…

“No I don’t! I think it’s amazing to see you sorting all these things out, ok?”

A strange feeling, a mix of warmth and guilt washing over Saruhiko, crept along his spine, like it did every time the surfer praised him. It happened often, and the ice-cream vendor couldn’t get used to it.

“You—you’re amazing Saru!” Misaki blurted out, turning around at the speed of light – but not before Saruhiko could catch the bright red blossoming on his cheeks.

 _What are you not telling me, Misaki_?

Now the surfer busied himself inserting some coins in the station, trying to start the game. Saruhiko joined him slowly, still trying to find what felt so off… _I did something wrong_. That must have been it.

The music of the game started flooding their surroundings as Misaki succeeded eventually in turning it on. Then he handed one of the joysticks to Saruhiko and turned to him with an expectant glance.

“Are you ok?” the dark-haired man asked with a light snort.

“I am! I—err… Ok!” the redhead eventually stopped fidgeting, and even froze, clenching his fists at his sides once Saruhiko took the joystick in his hands. “Saruhiko, what are you—I mean… Do you do… Do you—d’you have plans for tonight?”

 _Ugh?_ Why did Misaki asked something like that all of a sudden?

“Not more than any other day,” he shrugged, turning toward the game.

“Then let’s do something together!” Misaki blurted out, stepping in his field of vision abruptly, facing him and blocking the way to the screen.

Saruhiko’s shoulders felt a little less stiff at that. If that idiot wanted to spend some more time together, there was no need to act so weird after all. If it was just that then…

“It’s kinda like… my birthday today, you know.”

_What._

“So I’d like to spend it with you.”

Suddenly, Saruhiko was aware that Misaki was stuttering things, but he didn’t really listen. He had stopped listening at the word _birthday_. Misaki’s birthday. Today. The dark-haired man hunched on himself, a cold feeling creeping under his skin. Misaki’s birthday… Meaning they had spent all this time today and Saruhiko hadn’t been able to figure it out.

He felt so angry and disappointed with himself all of a sudden, the young man just dropped the joystick and stared back at the redhead with a hostile glare.

“Today is your birthday?”

That reaction was probably awkward and the other suddenly flushed and averted his gaze. Saruhiko felt like an idiot.

“Well, yeah… I thought—maybe…”

“Tsk!”

In no time at all, the dark-haired man turned away and abandoned the game station to go… well, he had no idea where to, but he was totally pissed at himself and needed to take some air.

It’s not like they had known each other for long, but the ice-cream vendor felt really stupid and annoyed that he had no clue it was the other’s birthday. It was obvious Misaki expected to spend it with him – and Saruhiko really wondered why – and he hadn’t even been able to… “OI! SARUHIKO WHAT THE HELL!”

The dark-haired man hesitated a second before speeding up but it was too late. Before he could reach the main door of the game center, Misaki was blocking his way, fists clenched on his hips, with a very angry look on his face. A pained one too.

“What’s that? Why did you leave? I just told you it was my birthday and here you go being the biggest asshole in the universe all of a sudden? That’s the worst birthday gift ever!” the redhead, flushed like mad, yelled at him.

 _It’s not like that_! Saruhiko wanted to protest immediately… when he realized it totally looked like that. Misaki must have thought he didn’t want to stay with him, or something, because Misaki always drew stupid and straightforward conclusions.

“Why would you want to spend your birthday with someone who can’t even figure out it’s your birthday?” Saruhiko muttered through gritted teeth, crossing his arms and fighting the rush of heat prickling his face.

The frown on the surfer’s face intensified as he gaped at him. “Wh—what?! What reasoning is… The fuck? Saruhiko!” And now he was stuttering, trying to connect things and Saruhiko felt even more fed up by the situation. “How could you know? I never… Wait, so… You’re annoyed cause you didn’t know it’s my birthday?”

Saruhiko’s involuntary click of tongue answered Misaki.

“Oh god, Saru… And I’m supposed to be the idiot one? That’s fucked up, ok? Stop being… You’re… You don’t make sense!”

“You don’t either,” the dark-haired man bit back.

Surprisingly, the redhead smiled cockily at that. Saruhiko felt some of the awkward tension in his shoulders ease a bit.

“Good! Then we’re two! Seriously, stop this shit right now. I didn’t expect you to know! But now you do, you have to make up for that tantrum you threw right now, jerk! And accept to spend the evening with me already.”

As Misaki added that last sentence, his cheeks reddened again. Saruhiko’s throat felt dry. He was still embarrassed by the previous situation, but he also realized how much he wanted to accept Misaki’s proposal. And he was about to say something eventually when the redhead stuttered again…

“It’s—it’s not like it’s a d—date or something ok?”

The dark-haired man’s jerked up as he stared with genuine confusion at the other. Misaki looked intensely at his own feet. “Unless you—you want it to be, that is.”

“A date?”

Saruhiko was aware he was blinking and staring back but he couldn’t help it. _A date with Misaki_ … That sounded so…

“Yeah, right, sorry! That’s stupid, forget it, ‘kay?”

Again, Misaki’s voice cut his train of thoughts and brought him back on earth, just in time to see the redhead get away. What did he think he was doing now?

Ignoring the best he could the rush of adrenaline coursing through him and making him dizzy, Saruhiko hurried after Misaki and caught one of the thin, tanned wrists. “Wait!”

“Ugh, let’s go back to the game, Sa—“

“Misaki, you’re an idiot,” the dark-haired man deadpanned.

The surfer stiffened and looked up at him with a miserable pout. That didn’t suit him at all, yet Saruhiko found it… endearing.

“You’re the true idiot. Really.”

“Shut—“

“But I’ll go on a date with you, if you want,” he eventually added, averting his gaze too, his fingers digging in Misaki’s wrist without him noticing.

For a moment there was an awkward silence and Saruhiko only wished nothing of this had happened and they were just playing casually a game, like any other day. Then there was that tiny sound Misaki made has he sucked in his breath.

“Fu—I mean… Yes. Yes, Saruhiko, of course I want it, dumbass!”

The wrist in the dark-haired man’s hand wiggled a bit and Saruhiko felt his heart tightening in his chest when the redhead intertwined their fingers a second later.

“C—cool. Cool then. Thanks,” Misaki added before squeezing his hand once more and breaking the contact.

Why was it that hard to remember how to breathe, all of a sudden?

And Misaki’s bright grin didn’t help one bit with that…

“We—we could go to the beach, no? Like… You know, taking a walk…”

That had the merit to wake up Saruhiko from the weird trance he had fallen in. He arched an eyebrow, not believing his ears. “It’s your birthday and you want to go to the beach? What is wrong with you?!”

This time, he got an outraged gasp. “Eh! What does _that_ mean?”

“That means _no_ , Misaki. That means that me alive, we’re not hanging on the beach as a date. Got it?” Saruhiko deadpanned.

It felt easier to banter again, and to tease, and even to smile to the redhead. The ice-cream vendor had a hard time realizing it yet, but Misaki had asked him to go on a date… Yeah, it definitely was easier to grin.

“The fuck Saruhiko! It’s my birthday!”

“And it’s _our_ date, Misaki. Get used to that, you’re not the only one who gets to decide.” The words rolled on his tongue smoothly. It felt good. And so did Misaki’s sheepish smile.

“You’re an asshole, you know,” the surfer said then, hitting him lightly in the shoulder with a fist.

“You know it too, and you still asked for it.”

Misaki bit his lower lip, the corner of his mouth curling up tentatively. “Well… I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

Saruhiko had no problem going out with one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaaaand this close that two-shot little thing ^^  
> That summer!AU had been in my mind for so long lol  
> Stay tuned though, because I'm also posting an ****
> 
> [EXTRA SMUT SCENE](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7476411)
> 
> (failed awkard smut scene lol)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it :)


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